


Rub-dub, Just Relaxing in My Tub

by LiGi



Series: Camelove 2021 [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Asexual Leon (Merlin), Bathing/Washing, Boys Being Boys, Fluff, Gen, I love him, Implied Sexual Content, Long-Suffering Sir Leon, Lubble, Minor Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Other, Sex Mentions, bath time for Leon, lancelot is kinky, leon is so precious, the other knights go to a brothel, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29355027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiGi/pseuds/LiGi
Summary: Leon had grown bored of waiting for the bath to cool, and decided to just get in, hissing slightly as he plunged one foot into the hot water. It was just on the pleasant side of too hot, tingling up his aching leg as he stepped over the side with his other foot as well. He stood still for a moment, wiggling his feet as he got used to the temperature then slowly lowered himself down.“Ooh…”He released a long content sigh, ducking down until he was completely submerged up to his neck, humming in appreciation. Now this was nice.He wriggled backwards until he could lean comfortably on the side of the tub; his manservant had draped an extra folded towel over the side to act as a cushion and Leon snuggled back against it.Grinning, he lifted one arm up, the water dripping from his wrist, to reach for his wine. He could feel all of his aches melting away into the rosemary scented water, the wine blissfully dulling his mind.Poor Sir Leon the Long-Suffering having a nice hot soak, written for Camelove2021!
Relationships: Knights of the Round Table & Leon (Merlin)
Series: Camelove 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150931
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18
Collections: Camelove 2021





	Rub-dub, Just Relaxing in My Tub

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Splish, Splash' by Bobby Darin
> 
> This was a tiny spark of an idea that was fanned heavily by the wonderful Camelove mods' enthusiasm for a Lubble fic! It's not quite Lubble because there aren’t actually any bubbles… but it does feature our lovely long suffering Sir Leon having a bath so… Lath if you will!!
> 
> Despite being a fic about an asexual there is a ridiculous amount of sexual mentions. Because of the other knights. Nothing on screen or explicit. Leon thinks they're all mad.

Leon called the knights to a stop as his shoulder began to ache. It had been a long day of training, and Leon had taken over leading the others half way through the afternoon when Arthur was called away to a council meeting. He’d drilled the knights steadily through each manoeuvre, until they were perfectly in sync.

There was a melee the following week and Arthur thought it would be a fun challenge for all of the knights to compete, pitting them against each other in a friendly competition. And against all of the visiting knights as well. Arthur had insisted one of his chosen few _had_ to win. And so Leon was making sure they were up to scratch.

Gwaine, of course, had boasted all day about the fact he had won a melee before.

Even as Leon began to take off his armour, sitting on a bench at the side of the training field, Gwaine was recounting the story.

“It was down to just me and Arthur at the end. I could’ve taken him too, but it wouldn’t have been sporting to cut down the prince after I’d just saved his life.”

Lancelot rolled his eyes, and Percival gave Gwaine a shove.

“You won’t win this time, little man,” he told him.

“I can beat you easily!” Gwaine declared, whipping his sword back up and swinging it flat sided towards Percival.

Leon considered telling them to stop, but he was too tired. He went back to unbuckling his pauldron from his shoulder and let them fight it out until Gwaine was on his back on the floor, his sword thrown several feet away. Percival pinned him down, one large hand holding both of Gwaine’s wrists over his head, the other on his chest, pushing him down into the grass.

“Careful, Percival, you’ll get him all hot and bothered,” Lancelot said wryly, one eyebrow quirked.

Gwaine grinned lasciviously, bucking his hips. Percival gave his chest another shove, making Gwaine cough between his laughter, and stood up.

“Like to be tied down, do you, Gwaine?” Elyan asked with a laugh.

“Given the right offer,” Gwaine purred.

“I’m not offering,” Percival chuckled.

“Oh, Perce, I thought you liked me,” Gwaine joked, lounging back on the grass and shooting a grin up at the tall knight.

“You’ve got a little too much beard for my liking,” Percival said, reaching a hand down to pull Gwaine to his feet. Then poked him low in the belly, just above his crotch, once he was standing. “And a little too much down there.”

“True.” Gwaine waggled his eyebrows. Lancelot snorted.

“And not enough up here,” Elyan chimed in, cupping his hands in front of his chest.

Leon shook his head to himself, placing his breastplate on the bench beside him, balancing his pauldron on top. He yawned.

“Are you going to The Rose tonight?” Lancelot asked Percival.

“Probably, any of you coming?”

The Rose was the brothel in the upper town, a favourite haunt for all of the knights – except Leon. It was owned by the youngest daughter of an earl and was quite a stunning establishment, clean and luxurious, unlike the brothels in the lower town. The owner – Lady Rosa – had been disinherited by the earl for opening such a scandalous business, but it was so popular that she was now wealthier than her father.

“I’m in,” Gwaine said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Me too,” Elyan added. “What about you, Leon?”

Leon froze, his hand stilling on the buckle of his vambrace. He did occasionally go with them for dinner; the cook at The Rose was much better than the one at the Rising Sun. But then he always found some excuse to leave once the others started talking to the girls – or boys, there was one particular, cheeky red-haired lad that Gwaine liked, and a blond with a striking resemblance to Arthur who often managed to catch Merlin’s attention.

Leon, on the other hand, wasn’t much interested in any of the brothel workers, male or female. Yes, they were all attractive people, and he knew they were very good at their jobs from the way the other knights talked about them. But it wasn’t a pleasure he’d ever felt the desire to indulge in himself.

He fiddled with the strap of his vambrace, letting another yawn slip from his lips before answering Elyan’s question.

“I’m too tired this evening. I’m just going to have a bath and go to bed,” he said with a shrug. He was already imagining the lovely hot bath he was planning on enjoying that evening, soaking his aching muscles in the large tub. “But you all have a fun night.”

“I shall indeed,” Gwaine said with a particularly over-emphasised, lascivious wink.

“Thanks, Leon, see you tomorrow,” Percival said, grasping Leon’s arm firmly as the others began collecting up their armour and weapons.

Lancelot came over and gave his shoulder a squeeze and Leon smiled up at the other knight.

“You have a good evening as well, my friend,” Lancelot said warmly. He alone seemed to have noticed Leon’s distinct lack of interest in sexual pleasures and his early disappearances from the brothel on the rare occasions he did join them. But he didn’t judge Leon for it, just quietly supported his choice to remain alone.

“Bye, Leon. Tell Merlin we’re going if you see him,” Elyan added.

“Should we invite Arthur?” Gwaine said with a grin as they started walking up towards the palace.

“Arthur is courting my sister!” Elyan reminded him, giving Gwaine a hard shove with his shoulder.

Leon watched them leave and breathed out a long sigh, rolling his aching shoulder. He loved his friends dearly, but he did rather like just his own company. He hummed quietly to himself as he finished removing his vambrace. He stacked each various piece of armour on top of his breastplate and scooped the whole lot into his arms.

It was a long trudge across the courtyard and up the many flights of stairs to the knight’s quarters, and his worn out legs were aching as well by the time he got to his own chambers.

He could have wept when he saw Bren, his manservant, tipping steaming water into the bathtub that was already positioned before the roaring fire. The room had the pleasant aroma of rosemary and lavender from the steam swirling off the water’s surface. He groaned happily.

“Good evening, my lord,” Bren said with a smile, running over to take the pile of armour from Leon’s hands. He set it down on the table then helped Leon yank his chainmail over his head. Once it was off, he pulled the chair out for Leon to sit down. Leon collapsed into it and Bren immediately knelt to remove his boots.

“Thank you,” Leon said through his hands as he scrubbed them over his tired face.

“How was training today, my lord?”

“Strenuous.”

“I’m sorry, my lord. Shall I fetch you some muscle balm from Gaius?”

“Oh, yes, could you?” He groaned again as he rolled his shoulder.

Bren tidily tucked Leon’s boots by the wardrobe and leapt to stand behind him, massaging his shoulder with his deft fingers. This was Leon’s favourite thing about his manservant. He was wonderful at getting the kinks from Leon’s back after a hard day of training.

“Of course. I shall just finish your bath and I’ll run down now, my lord.”

He moved over to the hearth, peering into the cauldron over the fire to check if the water was boiling yet, then carefully lifted it with a towel and poured it into the bath.

“Thank you, Bren. After that please take the evening off. I’m going straight to bed after my bath.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Bren bowed. “Would you like my help undressing, my lord?”

Leon waved him away. “Thank you, I’m fine.”

“Yes, my lord. I’ll be right back.” And he dashed away before Leon could say anything else.

He chuckled, the way Bren still finished every single sentence with “my lord”, even after working for Leon for several years, had always made him smile. Leon often told him he needn’t be quite so formal but the servant persisted with his polite deference nevertheless. He was never going to let Gwaine near the young man. The rogue would eat poor Bren alive.

Standing up with a groan and a click from his back as he stretched, Leon wandered over to the full bathtub. It smelt wonderful and the little swirls of steam dancing across the top of the water looked so inviting. Beside the tub was a small table leaden with the various jars of Leon’s favourite bath salts and oils. He liked trying a different combination of the scents each time.

Today, Bren had added rosemary and lavender salts, then intensified the aroma with lavender oil as well, and a hint of musk. Leon dipped one hand in the water, flinching back slightly at the temperature, and gave it a stir with the tips of his fingers, smiling.

There was also a shelf balanced across the foot end of the bath holding a clean neatly folded washcloth and a new bar of clove studded tallow soap, along with two fat honey scented candles, flickering merrily.

Leon undid the ties on the front of his gambeson, letting the heavy jacket slide off his shoulders and down his arms, crumpling to a heap on the floor, then tugged his shirt off and flung the sweaty cloth into the basket in the corner of the room. He hooked the gambeson up with his foot and kicked it into the basket as well, grinning when it landed on target.

He went to the table and poured himself a large goblet of wine from the jug Bren had left. He took a sip. It was lovely, one of the fine bottles from the nobles’ cellar.

“Oh thank you, Bren,” Leon whispered into the goblet, taking another larger gulp.

This was definitely nicer than the drinks they would be having at The Rose. While Lady Rosa did have a vast collection of brandies and spiced meads, she didn’t specialise in wine, and Leon had never really liked brandy. The other knights had no such reservations and were usually found cupping the large goblets in one hand, even as their other hands cupped various body parts of their pretty female companions.

Leon put his goblet on the bath shelf with a sigh.

Yanking undone the laces of his breeches and braies he pushed them down his aching legs, hopping on first one foot then the other to pull them and his socks off. He deposited them in the laundry basket as well and leant against the side of the bath tub. The water was still a little hot so he perched on the edge and trailed his fingers through the water as he waited for it to cool down, sipping his wine lazily.

No doubt his friends would be at the brothel by now, Lady Rosa simpering over Percival, and Gwaine eyeing up whoever he was going to choose that night. Elyan would be talking happily to whichever girl was serving behind the bar, gently flirting, and Lancelot charming everyone within sight with his perfect smile and deep expressive gaze.

And if they’d managed to get Arthur to relinquish Merlin to go with them, then the Arthur lookalike would probably be swaggering around in his tin crown, his hands reaching for Merlin before Merlin could even pull his moneybag out.

Leon chuckled to himself. If his friends were predictable it was nothing compared to the brothel’s finest workers. They lined up to get to be the one to treat a Round Table Knight. Lady Rosa herself had claimed Percival. And Leon had once seen two girls practically spitting at each other in a corner over which one of them got to pour Lancelot his next goblet of brandy, let alone take him upstairs.

It all seemed like unnecessary fuss to Leon. Here he was, alone in his own room, completely free from the hassle, and surely having a much better time.

He had grown bored of waiting for the bath to cool, and decided to just get in, hissing slightly as he plunged one foot into the hot water. It was just on the pleasant side of too hot, tingling up his aching leg as he stepped over the side with his other foot as well. He stood still for a moment, wiggling his feet as he got used to the temperature then slowly lowered himself down.

“Ooh…”

He released a long content sigh, ducking down until he was completely submerged up to his neck, humming in appreciation. Now this was nice.

He wriggled backwards until he could lean comfortably on the side of the tub; Bren had draped an extra folded towel over the side to act as a cushion and Leon snuggled back against it.

Grinning, he lifted one arm up, the water dripping from his wrist, to reach for his wine. He could feel all of his aches melting away into the rosemary scented water, the wine blissfully dulling his mind.

After a long while of just lying, soaking, and sipping his wine, the door to his chambers quietly creaked open and Bren backed into the room with a tray. He took it to the table and placed it down. Leon saw a plate of bread and a small iron cooking pot, along with a bowl of chopped fruit and a sticky honey cake. His tired face split into a smile.

“You’re too good to me, Bren,” he said happily and the servant beamed with pride at the praise.

“Thank you, my lord. You said you wouldn’t be going down to the dining hall after your bath so I thought I’d bring up some of tonight’s stew for you. I’ll put it over the fire to keep it hot.”

He picked up the cooking pot from the tray and went to the fire, hanging it on the hook at the side of the hearth. Then he brought the jug of wine from the table and refilled the goblet Leon’s fingers were just loosely holding onto over the side of the tub.

“Thank you for everything, Bren. Now go and enjoy your night off.”

“Of course, my lord.” He bustled back over to the table and picked up a jar from the tray, holding it up for Leon to see. “Here is the muscle balm from Gaius.” Leon nodded. “And I have laid out your fresh nightclothes. Would you like me to wash you hair, my lord? I can –”

“Bren. I’ll manage.” He gave the servant another smile, then shooed him with one hand. “Thank you. Now go, have a nice evening,” Leon ordered.

Bren bowed low. “Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord.”

Leon was still smiling once Bren had finally left, after plumping up the pillows on his bed and scooping up Leon’s armour to take away and clean. The boy worked too hard. And Leon was pretty sure he helped Merlin do half of his jobs as well. And, while Leon appreciated hard workers, being one himself as well, he really wished his manservant would learn to relax a little. To understand the restful healing powers of a good bath. Once a week Leon practically ordered him into his own large tub, letting his manservant choose anything from his collection of salts and oils until Bren finally stopped rushing around working for even just an hour.

In Leon’s opinion, there was nothing better than a good long soak in a nice smelling hot bath.

There was a bathhouse in the cellar of The Rose as well. Leon had tried it once, when the others had all gone upstairs with their partners. It was a lovely vast chamber full of candles, with many individually curtained tubs. The whole room was heady with the aromas of rose and musk, and the bathers were attended by scantily clad women and young men with oiled chests, bringing around drinks and fruit and soap.

He would have enjoyed it immensely if it weren’t for the fact that it was a rather echoy room, and even with the curtains closed around his tub he could still hear the other bathers, and well, many of them were doing a lot more than bathing in their tubs. He’d had to leave immediately when he heard Percival’s voice groaning from a tub nearby his own.

There was only so much he needed to know about his friends, and the sounds they made in the throes of passion were definitely not one of those things.

For someone who did not partake in such carnal activities, Leon did seem to know a disturbing amount about his friends’ habits and preferences. They all talked about sex a lot, as most men are wont to do, and because Leon had nothing to offer to the conversation himself he ended up just listening.

He knew, for example, that Gwaine took his pleasures in groups of three or four if he was in a particularly amorous mood, both men and women, whoever took his fancy.

That Lancelot liked to be blindfolded and treated roughly, and often came home with scratches down his back and thighs.

Percival boasted the best stamina, being able to last long enough to thoroughly satisfy his woman multiple times over.

Elyan was adventurous, he liked to try new things, new positions, and was most happy to talk about his night the next morning.

And although Merlin enjoyed the Arthur lookalike, the prince he could, and did, order around to his every whim in the bedroom, he had a particular fondness and lust for Gwaine. A lust that Leon could only assume Gwaine did not know about.

He shook his head; he really did despair about his friends’ sexual appetites sometimes. It was a wonder they managed to concentrate on training with all of that buzzing around their heads constantly.

Setting down his now empty goblet, he picked up the soap and washcloth and began scrubbing himself, humming as he rubbed between his toes. He worked methodically up his body until all of his skin felt pleasingly clean. It had a pink flush to it, both from the heat of the water and the roughness of cloth. The spicy aroma of the clove studded soap mingled with the lavender oil to make a wonderful warm, calming smell that he took a deep breath of.

He shuffled forwards in the tub so he could lean his head back, digging his fingers into his hair to work the water through the messy curls. Bren had left him a wide toothed comb on the bath shelf and he used it to gently tug and tease the knots from his hair until the comb slid through easily. He put it down to pick up the soap again but as he went to grab it, the soap slipped off the shelf and plopped into the water.

“Bugger,” he muttered.

The water was cloudy with soap so he had to blindly feel around the bottom of the tub until he found the slippery little block. He grabbed it, but it slid out of his hand and toppled to the bottom of the tub again.

He made another snatch for it, this time it shot straight up out of his hand and fell down the other side of his legs. He shifted over and tried again. And again.

“Come here, you slippery little bastard,” he chuckled.

He was laughing heartily by the time he finally managed to carefully clasp both hands around it and lift it out of the water again. He rubbed his hands all over it, lathering it up in his palms before slowly putting it down.

“Now, you stay put this time,” he told it firmly.

He eyed it suspiciously as he began working the lather on his hands over his hair, scratching his scalp with his short fingernails. He could feel the grime and sweat lifting, leaving his hair soft and squeaky. He rinsed his hands and reached for the jug of warm water beside the tub, close enough to the fire that it had stayed warm despite sitting there for so long while he soaked. Tipping his head forwards he poured the water over his head, sluicing the soap from his hair, running his fingers through it to make sure he’d got all of the soap out and spluttering as water rivulets slid down his forehead and cheeks into his mouth. He flipped his hair backwards, wiped his face and tipped the rest of the jug over his forehead and back over his hair.

He moaned in satisfaction as warm water trickled down the back of his neck.

He could have wallowed in the bath for much longer, but the water was starting to get too cold and his fingers had all wrinkled like prunes. He squeezed as much water as he could from his hair and stood up, one hand steadying himself on the edge of the tub as he let the water run down his body and drip back into the water.

Stepping out of the bathtub, he took the towel off the back of the chair by the fire, bundling himself up in the warm cloth and rubbing it over his arms.

Tying the towel around himself, Leon wandered to the table and picked through the bowl of fruit, selecting a grape and popping it in his mouth. He’d eat his stew once he was dry and in his nightclothes, but he couldn’t resist treating himself to a quick bite of the honey cake. It was delicious, sweet and sticky and dense.

As he was licking his fingers, he heard voices in the hall outside his rooms. It seemed a little early for the others to be back. He padded across to the door, his feet leaving little wet patches on the cold stone, and listened. It was Gwaine, leading someone back to his chambers down the hall from Leon’s. That was unusual; Lady Rosa didn’t like guests to take her workers away from the brothel while they were working.

Leon opened his door a fraction and peered out of the crack. Gwaine was being pressed against the wall by a slim figure. Leon could only see the back of the man’s neck but he instantly recognised the distinctive red neckerchief. _Merlin_ was kissing Gwaine vigorously and dragging him towards his chambers.

Well, Leon should’ve seen that coming really. Now he owed Percival ten silver coins. He shook his head as he quietly shut the door and moved back to the table to finish his honey cake. After licking his sticky fingers, he dipped them in the bath, rubbing the honey off, and wiped them dry on the towel over his hip.

Humming again as he pulled the towel off, he rubbed it roughly over his hair. Once his hair was mostly dry, the curls tight and springy, he let the towel drop to the floor then collapsed backwards onto his bed.

He felt hot and clean and fresh. His muscles no longer ached and his head no longer felt so heavy. Leon shut his eyes peacefully. Then let out a happy sigh of contentment. Yes, a decent bath was better than sex any day.


End file.
